


don't threaten me with a good time

by fullybackfired



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Fingering, First Time, M/M, Terrible Euphemisms, Update: now somehow a multichap fic?, finally had to remove the PWP tag because i cannot control myself, some very mild Internalized Homophobia, still mostly porn despite some sneaky feelings, what is essentially a game of 'are you or are you not genuinely offering to finger me', which quickly dissolves into 'yes this is actually happening'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-05-05
Packaged: 2019-03-08 10:40:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13456515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fullybackfired/pseuds/fullybackfired
Summary: Oikawa's terrible, no-good roommate doesn't have any sense of propriety or class, but he's not going to let that prevent him from winning whatever game this may or may not be.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Don't Threaten Me With a Good Time" by Panic! At the Disco.

Tooru dropped to the floor of their dorm room in exhaustion, whining dramatically as he rolled onto the rug by his bed and sprawled out as obnoxiously as possible.  Kuroo, as predicted, immediately tripped over him on the way into the room and fell just out of Tooru’s range of sight with a loud yelp.  Tooru adjusted until he could watch him out of the corner of his eye.

“Bastard,” his roommate mumbled, heaving a sigh and shifting around until he was in a more comfortable position.  He’d landed in what Tooru would have previously considered an anatomically impossible pretzel.  “Ugh, I’m so fucking sore.”

“So crude, Tetsu-chan,” Tooru chastised lightly, pointing his toes to the wall and relishing the burn in his calves.  His bad knee twinged and he rubbed at it absentmindedly with his left hand, the skin still warm to the touch.  They’d just come back from an impromptu late-night practice session that had mostly involved serving and receiving over and over until they were blinded by sweat, and Tooru felt fantastic.  Fatigued, but fantastic.  They’d barely managed to shower before trudging all the way home from the gym, arriving back at their dorm past 2 AM.

“I think you killed me, Oikawa.  My forearms are on fire.”

“Of course they are,” Oikawa blinked, tilting his head in Kuroo’s general direction and putting on a smug face.  “What, did you want me to hold back?  I wouldn’t have thought that I’d need to go easy on you.”

“Never,” Kuroo grinned, sitting up so that Tooru could see the way his eyes narrowed in competitive challenge.  The resulting curl in Tooru’s stomach was just as expected as it was annoying.  He’d been paired with Kuroo by some kind of cruel happenstance upon arriving at Chuo, both in the dorms and on the university’s volleyball team, but even though Kuroo was awful and brushed his teeth weird and had ridiculous hair Tooru figured that it could’ve been worse.  They actually got along rather well when they weren’t arguing, as they tended to circle back and forth between needling at each other incessantly and too-easy friendship.  _Frightfully_ easy friendship.  Just because it was easy, though, didn’t mean it was always comfortable – at least not for Tooru.  How could it be, when Kuroo made him feel like he was constantly trying to maintain his balance on slick ice like some clumsy child learning to skate?

Tooru smiled back at him anyway, humming a tuneless song and blinking his eyes slowly.  He felt weightless; intoxicated by lingering adrenaline.  They sat in peace for several minutes as Tooru attempted to come down from his practice-induced high, colors swirling every time his eyelids closed and blood running just a little too hot.

“Well, that’s it,” Kuroo announced loudly and abruptly, snapping Tooru back to reality.  Kuroo slapped his palms to the floor and stretched luxuriously with a loud groan, long legs reaching out so that his toes hit the desk on the other side of the room.  His eyes were closed, but they popped open after a second as Kuroo turned to make purposeful eye contact with Tooru.  Tooru pretended he hadn’t been staring.

“I’m definitely too wired to sleep,” he declared, eyelids low and heavy despite his words.  “I think I’m gonna buffer the banana, so leave if you want.  Or just ignore me, I don’t care.”

It took several seconds for the words to sink in, but when they finally did Tooru’s eyes snapped back to Kuroo’s from where they’d been staring at the cobweb under the closet door.  “Tetsu-chan.  Please, _please_ don’t tell me that means what I think it means.”

“What would you prefer me to say?” Kuroo smirked, tongue-in-cheek, “Choke the chicken?  Crank the love pump?  Play the skin flute?”

Tooru groaned in pain, squeezing his eyes shut and whipping his head back and forth until he got a little dizzy.  “No, no, no, _no_ ,” he moaned, “Stop, you absolute scum.  You scoundrel.  You _heathen_.”

Kuroo cackled like a drunk hyena in response.  “Fine.  But I’m not kidding, and I’m not going to be discrete about it either, so buck up, buttercup and make your move.”

“You’re unbelievably rude, Tetsu-chan,” Tooru hissed as he sat up on his elbows so that he could glare better at his terrible, ugly, disgusting roommate and his no-good face.  “Why didn’t you just do it in the shower after we practiced?”

Kuroo shrugged and ignored him from where he sat with his back against Tooru’s low bedframe, head tilted back onto the mattress.  He looked just as flushed and happy as he had at the gym, hair shiny from his shower.  Tooru felt fairly flushed and happy himself, so he let it go and flopped back down to the floor.  He was in the same strange mood he was always in after a good, long practice: languid yet slightly manic, mind hyper-focused in the way it was after a healthy amount of tequila.  Right now, that hyper-focus was fully (unfortunately, distractingly) directed towards Kuroo’s dick.  Was he serious?  Was he actually turned on right now?  He must be, Tooru thought, because even though Kuroo loved to tease him about things like this his voice hadn’t been as mocking as it usually would have been.  Was he hard already?  Was he itching to touch himself?  Should Tooru pretend to go to sleep so that he could pretend not to listen to him get off in the dark?

Tooru squirmed a little where he was lying.  The entire atmosphere was growing heavy with late-night delirium and lingering adrenaline, and Tooru must have succumbed to it already himself, because now _he_ was feeling a bit turned on too.  Things felt weird enough that it wasn’t even a little bit surprising when Kuroo tilted his head to look down at him and smiled lecherously.  Tooru guessed that a vulgar, overly-personal question was soon to follow, and he wasn’t wrong.  (He never was.)

“How do you like to get off, Tooru-kun?” Kuroo questioned, his one visible eyebrow arched high up on his forehead.

Typical.

Even though he’d been expecting it, Tooru still experienced some difficulty in not outwardly reacting.  “I’m not going to answer that, you beast.”

Kuroo waggled his eyebrows obnoxiously.  “One hand?  Two?  On your stomach against the sheets?”  He rattled it all off so casually, voice rising in volume as he went, like it was completely normal to question your roommate about his masturbation habits.  Tooru scowled.  He knew he was blushing.

“What would girls think if they heard you talk like that, Tetsu-chan?  You have no shame.”

Kuroo rambled on, ignoring him completely.  “Do you like it fast and rough or nice and slow?  Do you use lube or do you get pretty wet anyway?” 

Tooru’s legs twitched with the desire to roll into a position that wasn’t so…open.  Despite Kuroo’s stupidity, his words were having an effect on Tooru’s dick.  Tooru’s dick wasn’t exactly new at reacting to Kuroo, but that didn’t mean Tooru had to approve of it or endorse it.  And he _didn’t_ endorse it, he thought to himself stormily.  He didn’t.  He willed himself to calm down, but because he was busy being sweaty and distracted Kuroo’s next question threw him completely off guard.

“Or maybe you like to use fingers?  You ever try that, Oikawa?”

Tooru had.  Despite his curiosity and determination, though, it hadn’t been that special.  He knew it was supposed to feel good, but he hadn’t gotten much out of it the first time and hadn’t really tried again since.  He’d honestly been a little disappointed.

(Not that he was going to tell Kuroo that in so many words.)

“Hmm, I don’t really see the point of it,” Tooru sighed with as much of a casual air as possible.  He forced himself to relax more into the thick carpeting of the rug, to shift his legs apart a bit.  He could play this game, and he could win.  Kuroo’s eyes flickered down to the movement and then back up again, his body turning so that he faced Tooru more fully.

“Oh really?” Kuroo’s dumb eyebrow cocked, a small smirk forming on his dumb, dumb face.

“Really,” Tooru answered back, sighing again like he was bored.  “It’s just not that good, is it?”

“I’d beg to differ,” Kuroo hummed, after a few seconds of terrible silence.  Tooru jolted a bit internally, his brain immediately offering him images that really didn’t help his dick situation.  Why did Kuroo have to be like this?  Why did he have to be so terrible?  “In fact, I’d say that it can be really, _really_ good.”

“I don’t believe you,” Tooru sing-songed childishly.  Kuroo didn’t miss a step.

“Maybe you’re just doing it wrong.”

“Oh please, Tetsu-chan, sticking fingers up your own ass isn’t rocket science.”

Kuroo laughed his stupid, ugly laugh as his right hand curled around one of Tooru’s ankles and squeezed.  The warmth of his fingers made Tooru’s stomach clench.  “No, but it’s always nicer when someone else does it for you.” 

He flinched.  He was growing tired of Kuroo feeling like he could just say whatever he wanted, like he could just talk about someone else getting him off that way.

“Are you offering to finger me, Tetsu-chan?” he asked meanly, voice high and airy as he tilted his head to the side against the floor and arched his back just enough to make Kuroo’s eyelid twitch.  He suppressed his own burgeoning smile and widened his eyes, fluttering his lashes as a devilish, toothy smile split Kuroo’s face.

“Maybe I am, Tooru,” Kuroo responded smoothly, voice sly as he rolled onto his side and propped himself up on one elbow over Tooru.  Oh no.  Tooru’s plan to throw him off-guard had backfired.  It had completely, utterly backfired.  Kuroo leaned in close to Tooru’s face, smirk growing wider and more unsettling as Tooru faltered in surprise.  He hated when Kuroo used his given name; hated the way Kuroo’s lips shaped around it.  Hated the way it made his chest tighten up.  Tooru wasn’t about to lose whatever this was, though, so he quickly put on his best seductive face while reaching up to snag Kuroo’s chin.  He pulled him in until he could feel the warmth of Kuroo’s breath against his lips and ignored the way his stomach swooped at the feeling.

“Well then,” he murmured, allowing his eyes to flick down to Kuroo’s mouth and then forcing them back up again, “You’d better get to it.”

Kuroo blinked once before throwing his head back in raucous laughter.  The movement dislodged Tooru’s hand, and he brought it back down to his chest as he smirked in triumph.  Just as the knot in Tooru’s chest loosened and he was about to deliver an impassioned, over-the-top speech about how irresistible he was and how Kuroo should join his fan club, however, Kuroo leaned back down and tapped his thumb against Tooru’s own chin.  His voice came out low and warm and dark.

“It’d be my pleasure.”

Tooru managed to keep his surprise from showing on his face this time, but just barely.  He couldn’t help the way that his fingers twitched against his chest, though.  Kuroo’s smirk softened as his hand continued down from Tooru’s chin to his neck, long fingers trailing against his skin until they reached the collar of his shirt.  There, Kuroo thumbed the fabric as he looked down at Tooru with sharp, searching eyes, as if he was giving Tooru time to call him out on his bullshit.  Well.  Tooru couldn’t say he’d been expecting this, and he still wasn’t entirely sure if it actually _was_ all bullshit or not, but either way—he really, really hated losing.

“No, Tetsu-chan.  It’ll be mine.”

Kuroo’s face transformed into possibly the smarmiest expression Tooru’d ever seen on a human being.  “That’s the idea.”

Kuroo readjusted himself while letting out an embarrassing, excited whoop, maneuvering so that he was sitting back against his heels by Tooru’s feet as Tooru maintained his carefree sprawl as best he could without displaying his nervousness.  The atmosphere was beginning to feel less playful and charged as it was earlier, at least for Tooru, and slight awkwardness was settling in instead.  Was this actually happening?  Was he really about to be educationally fingered by his awful, ugly roommate on their dirty dorm floor on a Friday night?

 _Well_ , he thought as Kuroo grasped Tooru’s calves and then hauled him across the floor until his legs were on either side of Kuroo’s parted thighs, his ass kind of hanging in the empty space between them, _that might actually be a ‘yes’._

“My my, Tetsu-chan,” he teased, “You seem awfully confident.  You finger your teammates often?”

Kuroo hummed, his hands slipping up from Tooru’s calves to rest at his hips.  “Not exactly, but it’s always nice to impart my boundless knowledge unto others.  Besides, Tooru-kun, you’re special.”

He’d ended with a wink, and Tooru scrunched up his nose and scoffed.  Kuroo ignored him, hooking his thumbs into the waistband of Tooru’s track pants and then glancing up to meet his eyes.  Tooru knew it was a silent question and that this was probably another opportunity to dismiss everything as a joke, but he still didn’t want to lose (or, decidedly worse, reveal that he really, really wanted this).  Instead, he arched an eyebrow and wiggled his hips a little.  Kuroo snorted.  Despite Tooru’s lack of verbal acknowledgement of the situation, though, things became very, _very_ real when Kuroo slipped off Tooru’s pants and flung them off to the side, leaving him in his underwear.  Hadn’t he just said that his forearms were killing him?  He certainly seemed more energetic now as he moved his right hand from Tooru’s hip to his upper thigh, fingers hot and slightly sweaty against Tooru’s skin.  Tooru couldn’t help but to really fidget this time, both hands now at his sides and curling into loose fists.

“Well?  You’re supposed to be teaching me, right?” Tooru questioned, agitated, after Kuroo seemed to fall still, staring down at him.  He hated that he was nervous.  He turned his head off to the side so he wouldn’t have to see Kuroo’s face, but despite his anxiety he could feel his dick filling a little at the proximity and anticipation.  _Dangerous_ , he thought.

“Oho, Oikawa,” Kuroo chuckled, the hand on Tooru’s thigh slipping just a bit higher, “Are we feeling a bit eager?”

Tooru turned his head back so he could shoot Kuroo a scathing look.  In order to cover his embarrassment with false boldness, he sat up using one arm so that he could use the other to guide Kuroo’s hand until it was cupping his dick through his briefs.  He wasn’t quite halfway hard yet, so this could work to his advantage.

“Hmm, not especially.  I’m giving you one out of five stars so far.”

“Now that’s just not fair,” Kuroo protested, squeezing his hand until Tooru choked.  “I’m not even close to the main event.”

Tooru narrowed his eyes but he did relent.  He let his hand fall away from Kuroo’s as he laid back down, forcing the muscles of his thighs to relax around Kuroo’s hips.  This was fine.  This was more than fine.  Either Kuroo was going to chicken out, meaning Tooru would win, or Kuroo would actually go through with it, meaning Tooru would still win.  Kuroo wouldn’t even have to know that Tooru was selfishly excited about this happening, meaning that he could definitely play it off somehow.  Tooru was just an easy-going, adventurous guy who definitely wasn’t getting too worked up by the idea of his roommate sticking his long fingers up his ass.  Definitely.

The position they were in wasn’t ideal—Tooru felt too exposed—but he was still very much in control.  Comforted, he lifted his hips suggestively until Kuroo got the memo and slipped Tooru’s underwear off entirely.  Tooru took great pleasure in the way Kuroo’s eyes darkened.  Even if this was all a joke, even if Kuroo got up and laughed at him for wanting this, at least Tooru had proof that Kuroo found him attractive.  That way, if Kuroo accused him of anything, Tooru could turn it right back around.

Kuroo stared for another moment, his left hand digging into the meat of Tooru’s thigh, before his right slipped up to palm Tooru’s dick skin-to-skin.  They both exhaled through their noses roughly.  Tooru’s breath instantly sped up at the contact, his toes curling without his permission.  Tooru had fantasized about another boy touching him before (Ushiwaka on his knees when he was feeling vindictive; Iwa-chan’s rough hand when he was weak with carelessness or self-hatred), but the actual act was overwhelming.  He forced himself to count through his inhales and exhales, slowing his breathing while Kuroo thumbed at his cockhead.

Kuroo took his time, touching him softly while his face settled into an unreadable expression.  His hand felt so absurdly good that Tooru had to bite his lip to keep from making any noise, and it definitely didn’t help that Kuroo made a low noise of appreciation when Tooru’s dick jumped.  The gentle touches seemed to go on forever until finally, when Kuroo’s left hand slid up to cup his balls as his right smeared around the wetness at his head so very, very fucking slowly, Tooru’d had enough.

“If this is how it’s done then I’ve been doing just fine on my own,” Tooru complained, crossing his arms over his chest even though the position must have looked absurd.  It definitely did, judging by the pitch of Kuroo’s cackle.

“Still seem pretty eager to me,” Kuroo retorted, squeezing at his twitching dick and making him gasp.  “I’m just trying to warm you up.”

“This isn’t volleyball, Tetsu-chan, and that isn’t my asshole.”

Kuroo looked up and winked.  “Nope, I suppose it isn’t.”

Tooru hated him.  He really, really hated him.

In one quick movement Kuroo let go of Tooru’s dick, hoisted Tooru’s right leg over his shoulder, and then leaned forward to rummage through his gym bag while simultaneously crushing Tooru with all of his bodyweight.  Tooru yelped as the action pressed his own thigh to his chest and his dick to Kuroo’s stomach, the sensitive skin rubbing against Kuroo’s t-shirt.

“I don’t bend that way, you jerk!” he whined, scrabbling at Kuroo’s back as Kuroo giggled like a child into his ear.  It didn’t last for long, though, and after a short period of rustling Kuroo finally straightened back up and rearranged Tooru so that his thighs were around Kuroo’s hips again.  He’d grabbed a half-empty bottle of lube.  Tooru sighed in relief.

“You’d better prove me wrong about this, Tetsu-chan,” he warned, narrowing his eyes and jutting out his bottom lip just a little.

“Don’t you worry,” Kuroo responded, squeezing out a good-sized puddle and rubbing his fingers together as Tooru tried to breathe, “I will.  You gotta tell me what feels good and what doesn’t though, okay?”

Tooru snorted.  “Try me.”

Kuroo did.  He stroked Tooru’s dick with his slick fingers just once before hiking Tooru’s thighs a bit higher and placing a thumb against his asshole.  Tooru sucked in a tight breath, mind still trying to catch up to the fact that this was actually happening, and then forced himself to let it out of his nose slowly.  Kuroo circled him there gently, getting him wet, and then slipped the tip inside shallowly.  Tooru bit at his lip.

“Ok?” Kuroo asked, looking up to meet his eyes. 

Tooru blinked.  “Hmm?  Is what ok?  I’m not sure I feel anything, Tetsu-chan~”

“You’re insufferable,” Kuroo mumbled, but he did slip his thumb out and replace it with his index finger.  He slid in slowly, pulled back out to collect some lube at Tooru’s rim, and then pushed back in all the way past the first knuckle.  _Fuck_.  Tooru surprised himself by letting out a breathy groan and then immediately pretended like nothing had happened when Kuroo smiled up at him.  It didn’t feel too bad so far, and it was already leagues better than when Tooru had tried it himself.  Still, though, it burned a little.

“Relax, Oikawa,” Kuroo hummed as he stayed in one position and rubbed at Tooru’s walls gently.  His non-lubed hand kneaded at Tooru’s left thigh, fingers digging into the muscle and circling repetitively. 

“I know,” Tooru huffed, “You sound ridiculous.”

But it was easier said than done.  He concentrated on relaxing his muscles one by one like he normally would when stretching after a game.  He closed his eyes, figuring that it might be easier if he didn’t have to actually look at Kuroo while they did this.  He could already feel himself getting too into it, dick getting harder against the fabric of his t-shirt.

Kuroo’s finger stopped rubbing after a while and instead slid out and then back in, carefully, back and forth in measured thrusts that had Tooru’s breath picking up again.  Before he realized it Kuroo had worked himself in to the second knuckle and then beyond, the pressure feeling odd and unnatural inside him.  Tooru wriggled in Kuroo’s lap at the mild discomfort.

“How’s that feel?” Kuroo asked, his voice startling Tooru enough that his eyes snapped back open and up to Kuroo’s face.  He immediately regretted it.  His roommate was even more flushed than before, his one visible eye dark and dilated.  Tooru struggled not to make some kind of embarrassing sound.

“It’s not the w-worst,” he responded, voice catching.  Licking his lips and urging himself to calm down, he breathed in and out and then tried again.  “It’s definitely not great, though.”

Better.  His voice came out much more steady that time.

“Naw, I’m not surprised.  It’ll take a bit more time to get used to it, and I always feel like one finger is more awkward than anything.  Two gets real nice.”

Tooru arched a brow.  “How can two possibly feel better than one if one is already weird?”

“It’s the fullness,” Kuroo said lowly, slipping his finger back out and squeezing more lube onto his hand.  “Feels really good.”

“I’ll believe you when I feel it.”

“Fair enough.”

When Kuroo’s index finger slipped back inside him it was newly slick.  The additional lube definitely helped, and Tooru focused on making himself as boneless as possible.  He melted back into the rug, his thighs resting heavy over Kuroo’s and his head tipped back so that he didn’t crane his neck.  Good.  This was almost good.  Kuroo’s free hand left his leg and worked its way back to Tooru’s dick, palming him firmly, and that was even better.

“Yes,” he hissed, his own voice surprising himself in the quiet room, but it didn’t really matter because Kuroo squeezed him in response and twisted his wrist quickly enough to make his toes curl. 

“See?” Kuroo chuckled, stroking him fully, “Not so bad, huh?”

“Of course it’s not so bad, Tetsu-chan, you’re touching my dick.  Why don’t you shut up and focus on fingering me?”

Kuroo did.  He kept one hand going on Tooru’s dick as the other worked inside him, crooking upwards until he hit something that made Tooru’s left leg kick out wildly and his back arch right up off the floor.  Not giving him any time to recover, Kuroo pressed there more firmly while the thumb of his other hand dipped into the slit on the head of Tooru’s dick.  It was all too much, and Tooru couldn’t help the sound that forced its way out of his mouth and into the humid air of their room.  Kuroo groaned in response to the sound, the finger in his ass immediately pulling out so that he could join it with his middle one.

Okay.  Tooru supposed he could understand what Kuroo had meant.  The second finger, just edging in alongside the first, invoked an admittedly pleasant stretch that ached in a good way – the same way his muscles usually did when practicing or stretching after a jog.  It wasn’t too uncomfortable anymore now that he was plenty slick and Kuroo was jerking him off lazily, and so it was much easier to concentrate on how he liked the way that his ass clenched around Kuroo as his middle finger slid in all the way alongside the first.  It felt especially great every time Kuroo lined his fingers up right next to each other rather than allowing them to overlap a little, the slight increase in pressure against his insides making his dick twitch in Kuroo’s hand and his fingers curl into the rug.

“Like that?” Kuroo murmured, focused, and Tooru nodded his head against the floor.

“Two out of five stars,” he gasped, pressing his ass against Kuroo’s fingers and locking his ankles behind Kuroo’s back.

“Fuck, yeah, that’s it,” Kuroo responded, glancing up to meet his gaze as Tooru cracked his eyes open.  “One more, Oikawa?  Or just this for now?”

“Just this.  Give me a minute.”

Tooru closed his eyes again and allowed himself to sink into the feeling.  This was probably his only chance at getting this, at doing something like this at all, so he might as well go for broke.  Kuroo was in just as deep as he was at this point anyway; he was clearly enjoying himself too judging by the way Tooru could hear him breathing heavily.  Sensing an opening, he clenched his thighs harder around Kuroo’s hips and arched into him, one arm reaching down to pull at the hem of his own shirt until it went up past his nipples.

The effect was immediate.  Kuroo let out a low, embarrassing sound that made Tooru grin, his hand stuttering on Tooru’s dick and his fingers stalling inside him.

“You think I should take this off, Tetsu-chan?  Hmm?”

“Do what you want,” Kuroo grunted, curling his fingers until Tooru keened.  Awful.

Pouting, Tooru slid his hand down until he could join Kuroo’s on his dick.  He helped stroke himself a few times before arching his back up off the floor and reaching lower to feel where Kuroo’s fingers met his hole.  He was trying to get a rise out of Kuroo, but mostly just succeeded in making himself moan.  Luckily, he still got his wish.

“ _Fuck_ , Tooru,” Kuroo barked as Tooru slipped the tip of his own index finger inside himself, gasping tightly and using his leverage to scoot himself further into Kuroo’s lap.  The new closeness put Kuroo’s hand at an odd angle, but he quickly remedied the situation by slipping his fingers out of Tooru and hauling him up until he was seated in his lap properly.  Tooru’s head spun a bit at the sudden movement, his own finger sliding out as he clutched at Kuroo’s shoulders.  The emptiness now felt odd.

“Put those back inside me,” Tooru growled, grabbing at one of Kuroo’s hands and shoving it back down to where he wanted it.  Kuroo just cackled, wrestling Tooru’s shirt off when his left hand while reaching behind Tooru’s back with the other to grab the lube.  He squeezed out just enough to give them the slickness they’d lost and then rubbed teasingly over his hole.

“I hate you,” Tooru gasped into Kuroo’s hair, his arms winding around Kuroo’s neck and clutching at the back of his shirt. 

“That’s not very nice.”  Tooru could feel Kuroo’s smirk against the hot skin of his neck.

“C’mon, Tettsun, you big oaf,” he whined, pushing himself against Kuroo’s fingers and yelping a bit when they slid back inside.  This position allowed Kuroo to get even deeper than before, and now suddenly all Tooru wanted was a third finger.

“Another.  Give me another,” Tooru ordered, scooting closer against Kuroo’s chest and grinning when he felt the thick line of Kuroo’s dick against his abs.

“As you wish,” Kuroo responded, because he was a huge dork and an terrible person.

Still, as his ring finger nudged in alongside the others, Tooru couldn’t help but to clutch him tighter and press his open mouth against the skin of Kuroo’s neck.  Kuroo’s free hand rose to grip Tooru’s hair loosely, fisting into the sweaty strands and tugging just enough to make Tooru grind against him harder.  It must have been enough to knock Kuroo off-balance, because he tipped back against the floor until he was on his back and Tooru was spread out on top of him.  His fingers hadn’t stopped moving.

Tooru rested his forearms on the ground on either side Kuroo’s head, lifting himself up so that he could stare down at him.  Kuroo was even more flushed than he’d been before, pink dusting his cheeks and creeping up his neck.

 _Attractive_ , Tooru thought.  _Awful_.  _Ugly._

Kuroo gazed up at him steadily, eyes dark as they traced down to stare at Tooru’s mouth. 

“Oikawa,” he said lowly, seriously, “I’m pretty sure I’m going to chafe my dick unless I pull it out.”

Tooru laughed loud and surprised, throwing his head back before tilting it down to grin at Kuroo.  “You say that to all the girls?  Is that your line, Tetsu-chan?”

Kuroo scowled, squirming under Tooru and thrusting his fingers in particularly hard.  Tooru’s smile slipped, his forehead knocking against Kuroo’s chin as his head dropped down at the feeling.

“Fine, fine,” he gasped, leaning further into Kuroo’s chest as Kuroo tried to wiggle out of his shorts.  It took far less time than Tooru might have thought, and suddenly he could feel Kuroo’s dick slipping against his. 

“ _Shit_.”

“Yeah,” Kuroo whispered into his hair, his free hand pressing down on the small of Tooru’s back so they could grind together better.  “Fuck, Tooru.”

“Don’t get too optimistic,” Tooru panted into Kuroo’s ear, lips catching on the skin and making Kuroo’s dick twitch against his.  His roommate must have been on the verge of coming for quite a while, and Tooru honestly wasn’t sure how he’d made it this far himself. 

“But maybe you’d like me to return the favor sometime, Tetsu-chan,” he smirked, feeling especially bold now that he had Kuroo pressed against the cool floor and his dripping dick trapped against his belly.  Never one to disappoint, Kuroo slid the hand on Tooru’s back up until it could grip at his chin, turning Tooru’s head until their noses touched.

“I suppose you have to get some practice yourself, yeah?” he murmured, warm breath ghosting across Tooru’s lips.

Tooru had the words “I suppose” halfway out his mouth before Kuroo started fucking him harder, fingers spread wide apart and twisting sharply until they hit his prostate.  Tooru whined high and reedy, mouth dropping open and forehead tilting down to touch Kuroo’s.  He wasn’t entirely sure how it happened and definitely didn’t plan on doing it, but a moment later they were kissing hard and messy, mouths moving together in a hot slide as Tooru’s fingers tangled in Kuroo’s thick hair.  The contact was like a punch to the gut, heat curling inside him as he moaned into Kuroo’s mouth and squeezed his eyes shut tight.  It was too much, it felt too good, and before he could pull back he was clamping down on Kuroo’s fingers and spilling onto his chest.  Kuroo let out a throaty groan into his mouth and kept his fingers tucked tightly inside Tooru’s ass as he rolled them over, his dick sliding into the line between Tooru’s thigh and groin.

They kissed again, Tooru’s head spinning, until Kuroo convulsed against him and come shot up under Tooru’s chin.  The hot splash took him by surprise, his fingers digging harder into Kuroo’s hair as he bit at his mouth good and hard.  Their lips eventually slowed as Kuroo’s thighs shook.  Tooru pulled away after another few moments of what mostly felt like breathing into Kuroo’s mouth, his head knocking back against the floor as he panted.  Kuroo’s head dropped down too, hair ticking Tooru’s chin as he tucked himself into Tooru’s neck.

“Well,” he hummed after a long minute, lips hot and wet against Tooru’s skin.  Tooru shivered.  “Do you believe me now?”

The question punched a laugh out of Tooru and he smiled up at the ceiling drowsily, exhausted and sticky.  He was very much ready to crawl into bed now, despite desperately needing another shower.  Luckily he was used to staying up this late, but Kuroo was probably about to drop dead at any minute.

“I guess I can somewhat appreciate the merits now.  Three out of five stars.”

“Well,” Kuroo mumbled into his skin, mouthing up until he was hovering over Tooru, “I guess I’ll just have to keep trying.”

“I guess so, Tetsu-chan.”

Game, set, match.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND HERE I AM, ROLLING IN MONTHS LATER, WITH AN UNINTENTIONAL SECOND CHAPTER

Kuroo didn't keep trying, though, so life didn’t really change much after the Incident.  Their daily routines chugged along as always, from brushing their teeth together in the communal bathroom (Kuroo sleepy-eyed and sluggish; Tooru purposefully loud and very much awake) to playing aggressively competitive Mario Kart between classes.  Tooru had been expecting…something, really, _anything_ to change, and was torn between grateful relief and reluctant disappointment when Kuroo didn’t alter his behavior at all.  Kuroo’d made it seem like he might’ve actually wanted it, was the thing – like maybe he wanted Tooru that way, like maybe Tooru wasn’t the only one who wanted things like that, but it was always much more challenging to read his roommate than Tooru would like to admit.  It wasn’t as if Tooru _hated_ that Kuroo was ignoring it, he _didn’t_.  He preferred it.  It was easier that way.  Easier to pretend like it wasn’t all Tooru could think about as he jerked off in the shower.  Easier to pretend like he didn’t wonder where Kuroo’s experience came from; whether it was from plenty of quality time by himself or whether he had let someone else do it for him.  To him.  With him.  Because it didn’t matter.  Tooru had known as it was happening that it would be a means to an end; that Kuroo was probably just horny and shameless and wanted to prove Tooru wrong on something banally idiotic because he himself was banal and idiotic.

Instead of getting over it like he should have, though, Tooru couldn’t let it go.  Unfortunately one of his many, many excellent qualities was his aptitude for observing and analyzing opponents, which was the surely the only reason why he kept finding himself staring at Kuroo’s mouth and hands during practice or while they were doing homework.  Watching the flex of tendons in his wrist.  Noticing the broadness of his knuckles, the veins on the back of his hand.  Studying his nails, trimmed close and smooth.  How was it possible to forget how those fingers had felt inside him?  To not think about Kuroo using them on himself while Tooru laid in bed across the room?

It wasn’t.  It really, really wasn’t.

So Tooru did his best to push it off to the side, lock it away in that corner of his brain where he locked everything like this away, and resume his usual role as dutiful roommate, caring friend, irreplaceable teammate, and all-around charming—

“I’m not kidding, Tetsu-chan, I will cut those terrible bangs off in your sleep!  _Give it back!_ ”

Kuroo laughed good-naturedly into his phone, _Tooru’s phone_ , that he’d so cruelly stolen as Tooru was minding his own business on his _own bed_ and trying to have a nice, civil conversation with Hajime.  It had been going so well, too – Tooru had only been insulted a handful of times, yet he was pretty sure that Hajime was a few precious seconds away from turning that remarkable shade of magenta that he always went when Tooru poked at all the right places.  Tooru’s only regret was that he wasn’t in person to see it.

“Iwaizumi!” Kuroo exclaimed, warm and genial, as he wrestled Tooru down until Tooru was pinned and angry, flat on his back and flailing beneath him.  As Tooru tried to use both hands to grab for his phone, Kuroo used his unsettlingly fast reflexes to snag both Tooru’s wrists with the dumb, unsightly fingers of his left hand, pinning them to the pillow above Tooru’s head.  Tooru snarled beneath him as Kuroo continued talking, unaffected.

“How are things, my dude?”

“Iwa-chan!  Iwa-chan, help!  I’m being held hostage!  Don’t believe anything he says!” Tooru shouted, knowing his lovely, lovely voice would easily carry through the speakers and into Hajime’s tiny, tiny brain.

“Hmm, what’s that?  Oh no, there’s nobody around right now.  No – Tooru-chan’s not here.”

“ _Tooru-chan?!_ ”

“Oh yes.  The toddler next door is quite loud and obnoxious, you’re right.  Always has been, really, makes a person want to practice safe sex.”

Tooru felt his face go pink despite himself, which a) was absurd and which b) Kuroo definitely noticed.  Tooru turned his face to the side and towards the wall in order preserve at least some small percentage of his dignity.  
“Don’t corrupt poor Iwa-chan, you monster!” he snapped back, staring down one of Kuroo’s many ironic motivational posters, fingers curling into the pillowcase where Kuroo still had his wrists pinned.  “He hasn’t even been given The Talk yet!  He’s too pure!”

Tooru heard it loud and clear through the phone when Hajime bellowed out, “ _I’m not a child, you fucking asshole!_ ” in response.  Perfect.  His perfect, reliable Iwa-chan.  Tooru snickered and narrowed his eyes up at Kuroo, but he was completely ignored.

“Ah!” Kuroo announced, grinning madly, “You’re right!  He does eat unattractively.  Have you ever noticed how his eyes cross a little bit because he watches his food as he brings it to his mouth?”

“Iwa-chan would never say that about his very best friend!” Tooru barked, slightly miffed.  “I bet he’s only saying kind things about me!  I know you’re not even having a real conversation!”  Tooru was _not_ an unattractive eater.  He _wasn’t_.  He could be a food model!  He really could!

“Mhm, so true,” Kuroo affirmed earnestly.  Tooru doubted that Hajime’d said anything at all.  “And in the morning?  When he pretends like he doesn’t have the biggest eye boogers you’ve ever seen in your entire life?  It’s sad, really, how all those girls have never witnessed him like that.  Then they’d know the real Oikawa Tooru.  Wonder how many chocolates they’d give him then?”

That was the last straw.  Tooru fought wildly, his legs clamoring for purchase on the bedspread as Kuroo plopped down and dug his bony ass into Tooru’s poor, defenseless stomach.  The pressure squeezed a yelp out of him, high and pained, and Kuroo let up slightly at the sound.  It wasn’t enough to gain any ground, though, and as soon as Tooru thought he was about to twist free another hand reached out to press his face into the sheets.  Kuroo’s palm was warm and just a little sweaty, his thumb coming to rest just beneath Tooru’s lower lip as the rest of his fingers became half-tangled in Tooru’s hair.  The position required him to drop closer to Tooru’s head.  Very close.  Way, way too close.

“You’re trying to suffocate me,” Tooru whined despite the fact that his face was still tilted to the side and he could breathe just fine.  He wriggled his wrists against their restraint again but didn’t actually put as much effort into it as he could have.  He didn’t let himself question why.

Kuroo paid him no mind.  Since he was now using both hands to keep Tooru in place, he’d had to move Tooru’s cellphone so that it was smushed up between his shoulder and cheek.  He gazed lazily down at Tooru as he continued chatting with Hajime; his eyes were playful, his mouth pulled into an awful smirk.  Unacceptable.  Tooru scowled and fake-strained against the hand pushing his face down.

“Ah, yes.  Good advice,” Kuroo continued casually, still peering down his nose at Tooru.  “I’ll add it to my mental list of his numerous character flaws—”

“ _Hey!_ ”

“—Which is quite expansive, I know.  Oh definitely.  Yeah.  That one’s on there already, right below ‘inability to utilize basic human decency’ and ‘is an incredibly ugly sleeper’.”

“Lies!  Slander!” Tooru spluttered, squirming again.  His movement was enough to dislodge Kuroo just a bit, unbalancing him, meaning that Kuroo had to adjust his center of gravity from where he was perched on top of Tooru.  He leaned forward even more than he already was, his ass sliding backwards as his shoulders lowered until he was sat firmly on Tooru’s crotch.  Tooru stilled.  He swallowed hard.  Kuroo’s thumb slipped closer to his lip.

He tried to keep focusing on what Kuroo and Hajime were talking about, he really did.  It was just that he couldn’t _move_ now and that was all he could think about – how he couldn’t do anything to get out of his position.  Anything that didn’t involve an embarrassing situation, anyway, which was going to become inevitable pretty damn soon unless Tooru managed to focus on something else.  Kuroo wasn’t exactly helping him out, either.  He was talking in a lower voice now – saying something to Hajime about practice, maybe, or about classes – and his face was so close that Tooru swore he could feel warm breath on his neck.  He could _definitely_ feel the weight in his lap.  He could feel the muscles in Kuroo’s thighs shift as Kuroo adjusted himself, could feel every callous of the hand on his face, could feel—

Tooru’s breath caught hard in his throat as Kuroo’s thumb slipped up even more and came to rest at the corner of his mouth.  Tooru yanked his eyes away from the wall, snapping them up to Kuroo’s dumb face, only to find that his roommate was still staring down at him.  Tooru glared as best he could from his awkward position.  It strained his eyes a little since he had to look out the corners.

“Ah, no – I had no idea!  Roommates with that guy?  What has Sawamura been up to, anyway?”

Tooru glared even more pointedly, furrowing his brows.  That was such an open-ended question, and it wasn’t like Hajime to be so talkative, but maybe he was just humoring Kuroo because he knew it was annoying Tooru and—

He couldn’t help the loud, startled inhale he pulled in through his nose when the thumb resting at his mouth pressed down more firmly.  Enough to push at the seam of his lips.  Enough to almost slip inside.  Enough to make Tooru’s stomach flip.

Why did Kuroo have to like provoking Tooru just as much as Tooru liked provoking him?  Tooru was used to having that role all to himself in friendships and he wanted it to stay that way.  He knew he had a decision to make, was the thing, because he either had to clench his jaw and not say a word as he lay there and waited until Kuroo got bored and hung up with poor Hajime, _or—_  

Or.  Or he could…do.  Something.  He wasn’t really sure what.

As it turned out, though, it didn’t matter that he didn’t know what to do.  Between what felt like one second and the next, Kuroo deliberately rolled his hips against Tooru and Tooru felt his lips part in a surprised, strangled noise, his fingers flexing uselessly as Kuroo took the opportunity to slip his thumb inside to stroke against his bottom teeth.

“Hm?  Oh, just the whiny kid next door again.  Anyway, how was that practice game your university had last week against Todai, eh?  I want to get ready for when we take them on in a month.”

He’d started up a slow, even, deliberate grind that made Tooru’s pulse pick up madly.  He exhaled in hot puffs out of his nose, blinking fast as the tip of Kuroo’s thumb smoothed along the ridge of his lateral incisor.  It lingered there, brushing back and forth and back and forth.  Tooru’s bottom lip moved with him, the wet inside sticking to Kuroo’s skin and dragging hotly with every pass.  Tooru tried to keep his tongue away—he _did_ —but it somehow ended up pressing flat and soft and slick against the pad of Kuroo’s thumb.  Kuroo stilled momentarily before shifting deeper, sliding further past Tooru’s lips until he could press Tooru’s tongue to the floor of his mouth.  He held it there lightly, stroking gently, as saliva slowly pooled around him.  Tooru was starting to feel light-headed, his eyes slipping half-closed as his hips twitched upward into Kuroo’s.

“No shit!  Their wing spiker?  Really?”

The sudden sound of his roommate’s voice shocked Tooru back into reality, and as soon as his brain considered the situation—that Kuroo was rubbing their fucking dicks together and putting his grubby, unwashed hands in Tooru’s _mouth_ as he talked to Tooru’s _best friend_ with Tooru’s _own phone_ that he had stolen like an _animal_ —it was too much.  He flinched out of his shock stillness and into a panicked writhe that surprised Kuroo into dropping the phone from between his shoulder and ear.  It landed with a dull thump on Tooru’s chest, and he could hear Hajime’s voice filtering through the speaker but couldn’t understand what he was saying.  He bit against Kuroo’s thumb—hard—but wouldn’t let him pull away.

“This is what you get, you deviant,” Tooru hissed through his mouthful, narrowing his eyes and using his full strength to wrestle out of Kuroo’s hold.  It had never been _that_ strong, really; Tooru knew that Kuroo knew that he’d been allowing it.  He flipped them around, jamming his fingers between Kuroo’s ribs with one hand and pressing his other palm flat to his roommate’s ugly face in a meaner imitation of what Kuroo’d done to him minutes earlier.  Kuroo was laughing so hard he was snorting, squirming away from the assault on his ribs, his breath hot against Tooru’s hand.  Distantly, Tooru saw his phone switch off in the way that meant Hajime had hung up on them.  _Finally_.

“I can’t _believe_ you!” Tooru shrieked, scandalized, grinding his palm against Kuroo’s nose and reveling in the way Kuroo had begun to flail his stupidly long limbs around in a pathetic attempt to free himself.

“I hate you so much,” he growled after Kuroo offered nothing in response apart from more hysterical laughter.  This time, though, the laughter cut off abruptly only to be replaced by a sharp bite to Tooru’s hand that made him reel back in exaggerated horror.  Kuroo just grinned up at him as Tooru cradled his hand to his chest, his eyes bright with a mixture of emotions that Tooru couldn’t identify.

“Mm, can’t be _that_ much,” his roommate drawled, gripping Tooru’s hips and rolling them together in an even nastier grind.  Tooru fell forward, palms hitting the bed on either side of Kuroo’s head as he remembered that he was excruciatingly hard from what had honestly been an embarrassingly small amount of contact.  It was an eerily similar position to last time.  Last time, when Kuroo had been three fingers deep and Tooru had been wearing much, much less.

“Shut up,” he hissed, eyes squeezing shut.  This wasn’t supposed to be happening.  It wasn’t supposed to be, because Kuroo had said that they’d have to try again and part of Tooru had really, honestly believed him, but then he _hadn’t done anything_ so this really wasn’t supposed to be happening.

“This seems pretty familiar, huh?” Kuroo teased, because of course he did.  Tooru clenched his teeth.

“I have no idea what you mean,” he managed to grind out, eyes still shut tight against the feeling.  Kuroo had started rubbing circles into Tooru’s hips, his fingers firm and warm and one of his thumbs still a little damp with Tooru’s spit.

“Oh really?  Maybe I’ll have to remind you.”

Tooru’s eyes snapped back open.  Unfortunately, he was met with the sight of his roommate’s waggly brows and wide, toothy grin.

“That was awful.  You really need to work on your one-liners, Tetsu-chan.”

Kuroo just grinned wider, his fingers creeping up under Tooru’s t-shirt.  “Well?  Have you practiced anything that I showed you?”

Tooru blushed scarlet, which was less than ideal, because he had.  Of _course_ he had.  But he couldn’t say that, now could he?

“Definitely not.”

Kuroo looked visibly disappointed, which was exactly the response Tooru’d been hoping for.

“Why do you ask, Tetsu-chan?” he questioned in the most innocent, steady voice he could manage.  “Were you thinking about me like a dirty pervert?”

Kuroo’s hands slid out from under Tooru’s shirt to palm at his thighs instead.  They were both getting too worked up too quickly; Kuroo’s dick was straining obscenely at his shorts and kept rubbing against Tooru’s in a way that made him squirm.

“Yeah.  Yeah, I was.”

Tooru snapped his head up from where he’d unconsciously lowered it to trace the movement of Kuroo’s palms.

“What?” he asked, loud and surprised, when he really should have snapped back something much cooler and more inclined to tear Kuroo apart.

Kuroo was flushed and a bit sweaty, his smirk easing into something dangerous.  “Was I not supposed to?”

“No—I mean, why didn’t you— _fuck_ ,” Tooru trailed off, his fingers curling into the sheets as they moved together at a particularly pleasant angle.

“Oh?” Kuroo questioned, his voice slowing into that obnoxious tone that Tooru really, really hated, “Did you want me to do something about it?”

“Don’t be so cocky,” Tooru snapped.  “It wasn’t that good.”  His words would have been more effective if he’d been able to look Kuroo in the eye while saying them instead of sinking his forehead into the pillow besides his roommate’s head.

“Really now?  You didn’t want me to try again?”

“You’re ridiculous.  I don’t need— _I don’t need_ _you to_ —,” Tooru cut himself off as he let slip a low moan.  Kuroo’s right hand had weaseled its way between their bodies to grip Tooru’s dick through his pants, cupping him firmly.  He turned his head to the side so that his lips brushed against Tooru’s ear, the puff of his breath making Tooru shiver.

“C’mon, Oikawa.  You’ve gotta tell me.”

“ _No_.”

“Then ask me what I want.”

Fuck.  Tooru was almost shaking, and he knew it wasn’t only in anger.

“Fine.  _Fine_.  What do you want, Tetsu-chan?”

Kuroo shifted, his hand leaving Tooru’s dick so that he could use both of them to bring Tooru’s head up from the pillow.  He cupped his cheeks, one thumb drifting down so that it could push against Tooru’s bottom lip again.

“I really, really want to put my mouth on your dick.  Can I?”

Tooru blinked, feeling his face heat up again under Kuroo’s hands.  He was getting light-headed again.

“Ok,” he tried to say, but his mouth was so dry that he had to swallow thickly and try again.  “Ok, Tetsu-chan.”

Kuroo grinned.  He rolled them over quickly so that Tooru was settled back against the pillows on his back again, both of them working together to wrestle Tooru out of his shirt and pants and underwear.  His dick sprang up flushed and leaking, and Tooru had to slap a hand over his own mouth when Kuroo groaned load and low.

“ _Yeah_ ,” he hissed, hiking both of Tooru’s legs up over his broad shoulders, leaning forward until he was curled over Tooru, and smoothly dipped down to catch a drop of precome as it slid down.  Tooru didn’t recognize the sound that came out of his mouth.  He immediately hooked his ankles together, squeezing his thighs around Kuroo’s neck in a way he knew was probably too tight as his back arched up off the bed in a tight bow.  Kuroo didn’t seem to mind; he’d licked up to Tooru’s cockhead and was now mouthing his way back down in a sloppy trail that had Tooru biting his own knuckle and staring up at the ceiling as if it held all the answers to why this was happening.  He clenched the fingers of his other hand into the sheets, flexing in time with each stroke of Kuroo’s tongue.  It was so good—so, so stupidly good already even though Kuroo hadn’t really started blowing him—that it somehow came as a complete shock when Kuroo actually swallowed him down a few centimeters.

Tooru whined, high and tight, letting up on his knuckle so that he could bury that hand in Kuroo’s terrible, ugly hair.  Kuroo made a pleased sound around him that made Tooru’s breath stutter in his chest.  Then, just as abruptly as Kuroo’d sunk down, he pulled off entirely and looked up at Tooru.

“You don’t happen to have any lube within arm’s reach, do you?”  His voice was unsteady and gruff and way, way too much.  It made it difficult for Tooru to focus on the actual words coming out of his mouth.

“What?  Now?—I mean yeah, yeah.  Hold on, just—” Tooru stretched out the hand that had been fisted in his sheets, straining to open the drawer of his bedside table.  Somehow he managed to find the bottle he kept there and quickly passed it to Kuroo, who was now distracted with fitting as much of Tooru’s dick into his mouth as he could.  Tooru’s fingers fumbled on the bottle as he pushed it into one of Kuroo’s hands.

Kuroo clicked it open without slowing down, his mouth so hot and tight around Tooru that he felt himself breaking into a sweat.  The bones of his ankles ached from how tightly he had them crossed together. 

“Tetsu-chan,” he gasped out, tangling his fingers in Kuroo’s hair again.  Kuroo’d managed to work all the way down to the base, his nose grazing Tooru’s abs as he eased a finger into Tooru’s hole.  Tooru couldn’t breathe, couldn’t talk properly at all, and he’d known what Kuroo was going to do, he _did_ , but he also wasn’t truly prepared for it.  The stretch wasn’t as uncomfortable as the last time, probably because Tooru was close to coming and had fucked himself five times over in the past week and a half.  He wasn’t even sure how he’d managed to hold off until this point; Kuroo was giving him his first blowjob, after all.  Tooru guessed this wasn’t Kuroo’s first time giving one.

Kuroo worked in a second finger way too quickly as he bobbed his head, but Tooru didn’t care – he wanted as much as he could get.  His position didn’t allow him enough leverage to really go for it, but his fingers were thick and perfect anyway.  They rocked into him just enough, curled just enough, that Tooru knew he wasn’t going to last much longer.  Not when he could feel Kuroo’s throat fluttering around him like that.

“Tetsu-chan, I’m almost—I’m—”

Kuroo pulled off his dick and Tooru wailed unashamedly, twisting his fingers in Kuroo’s hair meanly and digging his heels into Kuroo’s back. 

“Can you take another?  Do you want another one?” Kuroo asked, voice wrecked and eyes black when Tooru lifted his head up to look at him.

“Yeah, yeah, just hurry up you _bastard_.”

Kuroo had the audacity to laugh his dumb hyena laugh, but luckily he _also_ had the audacity to fit a third finger inside Tooru’s ass so Tooru couldn’t really complain.  The stretch felt just as good as last time, the tips of Kuroo’s fingers hitting his prostate firmly enough to make his vision go white.  He also went back to work on Tooru’s dick, thank _fuck_ , and that was it.  Tooru came with a hoarse shout, spilling down Kuroo’s throat and squeezing his thighs around Kuroo’s neck so tightly that he could feel Kuroo choke.  That was even better, though, because it made his throat spasm around Tooru’s dick.

Finally, Kuroo sunk his nails into Tooru’s thighs tight enough that Tooru knew he needed to be released from his death hold.  Kuroo coughed and sucked in a wheezy breath as soon as he was set free, drool and come slipping past his lips and onto Tooru’s stomach.  He pulled his fingers out from Tooru’s asshole quick enough that Tooru gasped out loud.  Kuroo immediately used them to pull down his shorts, wrapping them around his own dick and stroking once, twice, three times before he came all over Tooru’s stomach.

“Gross,” Tooru gasped, chest heaving.  His legs were shaking from the sudden increase in circulation.

Kuroo just groaned, collapsing forward halfway onto Tooru’s tiny bed and halfway on Tooru himself.  He pet Tooru from dick to chest, rubbing his own come into Tooru’s skin and making Tooru scrunch up his nose in distaste.

“You’re disgusting.”

Tooru felt it when Kuroo grinned against his shoulder, mouth trailing against Tooru’s skin until he could suck at Tooru’s jaw.  Tooru leaned into it for a long moment, still trying to catch his breath, but when Kuroo angled himself up for a kiss he pulled away.  He had to—do something.  Play it cool.  Do anything other than let himself enjoy this as much as he did the last time, because maybe it wouldn’t happen again.  Maybe he’d been lucky this time.  Tooru hadn’t even touched Kuroo, really – not this time, and not last time.  What was Kuroo getting out of this other than some kind of leverage over Tooru?  He didn’t have an answer, and the only thing he could think to do was to remove himself from the situation before he gave in.

“Oikawa?” Kuroo asked, confused and sleepy, as Tooru sat up and gave an exaggerated stretch, pulling a blanket with him so he wasn’t entirely naked.  _How_ was he the only one naked, _again_?

“Ah, look at the time!  Oikawa-san is very busy and can’t lay around in bed all day.  You should know better, Tetsu-chan!  We have a test coming up in calculus this Friday and I know you need to study!”  Tooru pointed an accusatory finger at his roommate as he pulled on the nearest clothes he could find.  Kuroo was now sitting up in bed, still breathing hard, still confused.

“What?  Where are you—”

“Whoops, bye-bye Tetsu-chan!  No time to chat!” 

And with that, he grabbed his phone off the floor, flung his backpack over his shoulder, and breezed out of the room.  He was halfway down the hall of their dorm before he realized he hadn’t put on underwear or wiped the dried come off his chest, but there was no turning back now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how did those feelings get in there? whoops. 
> 
> i foresee at least one more chapter!!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, here we are. the end. why is this chapter almost 6k?? why is this chaptered at all??? could i probably write this forever in an endless spiral of banter & porn? who's to say.

Tooru really thought he’d done a good job.  It hadn’t been the smoothest of exits, but by the time he’d finished calmly and confidently panicking in the empty hallway and then again in the bathroom and then one more time in the bathroom on the top floor of the library, which he never, _ever_ used and knew Kuroo didn’t either, he was fine.  He was more than fine: he was back in control.  Tooru always took great pleasure in refusing to give opponents the upper hand, and that’s just what Kuroo had become.  An opponent.  A _threat_.  It’s what he’d always been, really – a threat to the way Tooru thought about himself.  A threat to the way he allowed himself to behave.  A threat, especially, to Tooru’s finely-tuned masturbation habits.  But now Tooru was winning.

Well.  At least that’s what he’d thought.  Even his return to their dorm room that evening had been successful.  He’d wandered in, humming and nonchalant and convincingly unbothered, to an equally carefree Kuroo.  His roommate had been studying in his own bed (for once) and had given Tooru a perfectly normal greeting as he looked up from his chemistry textbook.  There hadn’t been any questions for Tooru to rebuff, there hadn’t been any knowing looks or deliberate eyebrow arching or pointed teasing or terrible dirty jokes, and so Tooru had permitted himself to relax. 

That had been a mistake.  Never underestimate an opponent, even if you thought the game was essentially over.

(The game definitely hadn’t been over.)

Kuroo’d played it well.  He’d waited an entire week, long enough that Tooru had let himself breathe a little; long enough that Tooru began to think that he’d won, and _then_ —

Kuroo pounded a fist against Tooru’s back as Tooru choked ungracefully on toothpaste one Monday before class, foamy droplets splattering everywhere.

“ _What?!_ ” Tooru squawked after just barely avoiding an embarrassing, minty death.

“I said that I like seeing you like this every morning.”

“I know what you _said_ ,” Tooru hissed, glaring as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, “But I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Kuroo shrugged, tapping his own brush against the sink and rinsing off some stray toothpaste from his arm.  Tooru refused to watch his hands move in the water.  “You’re not actually an ugly sleeper, you know.  I mean you do drool – I won’t lie.  But I like waking up with you and you’re pretty cute with bedhead.”  He reached out with wet fingers to tug at a section of Tooru’s hair where it had fallen into his eyes.

Tooru blinked.  Swallowed.  Blinked again.  “I—I don’t drool.  And—and _you’re_ one to talk about bedhead, Tetsu-chan.  But at least you’re finally appreciating me.  I’m always cute.”

Kuroo turned to him and smiled, _almost nicely_ like a goddamn weirdo, as he gathered up his things and turned to walk out of the bathroom.  “It’s true.”

His voice seemed to echo in the tiled room, his words ringing on repeat in Tooru’s brain.  Tooru watched Kuroo’s back as he left, still blinking, hands gripping the cold, dirty rim of the sink.

It only got worse after that.

Over the course of the next several days Tooru became the victim of even more terrible, unjust attacks.  They occurred as follows:

  1. On Tuesday, Kuroo had come up behind him as he was fussing with his outfit in the mirror. He’d leaned down slightly to rest his pointy chin on Tooru’s shoulder and his hands on Tooru’s waist.  They’d burned through the fabric of his shirt.  “Very handsome, Oikawa-san,” he’d murmured into Tooru’s ear, smirking softly when Tooru twitched so hard he nearly dropped the jacket he’d been holding.  Tooru had attempted to recover by agreeing wholeheartedly and insisting that his poor, genetically-inferior roommate would be able to improve his own prospects if only he’d brush his hair once in a while, but had been cruelly ignored.
  2. On Wednesday, Tooru had been running late for class. He’d just stuffed his notebooks into his backpack and was about to leave when Kuroo handed him a paper he would have definitely forgotten otherwise and then swooped forward to kiss him on the cheek.  It happened too fast – not enough time to deflect.  “Have a good day,” Kuroo’d said, light and cheery like they were a newlywed couple playing domestic for the first time.  Tooru had tilted his chin up and snapped back with a sickly sweet, “ _Thank you, dear_ ,”, before quickly escaping.
  3. On Thursday, Kuroo had insisted on buying him pastries after practice. Tooru hadn’t refused (obviously) but he almost wished he did when Kuroo brushed crumbs off the corner of his mouth while leaning _much_ closer than necessary and maintaining an excessive amount of eye contact.  Tooru had been too concentrated on not appearing flustered to tease him about it, but thankfully their teammates filled the silence with all the jeering that Tooru was too off-balance to do himself.
  4. On Friday, they’d been rushing to finish a calculus problem set before class. Kuroo’d asked him for help (which Tooru gladly provided because he was a kind-hearted, generous person with plenty of knowledge to spare), but when they were finished Kuroo reached out a hand to pin Tooru’s homework to the table right as he was about to get up.  “You’d make a great teacher, Oikawa, honestly,” he’d said in a voice that Tooru couldn’t help but to gauge as sincere, “You’d be great at anything you wanted to do, you know.”  Tooru had refused to do anything rash, like tear his homework out from Kuroo’s hand and storm away, because he was better than that.  “I know.  Of course I would,” Tooru’d responded instead after several shameful seconds of silence.  That time had been the worst of them all.



Except for how it hadn’t been.  As it turned out, the worst was definitely Saturday.  They’d already come back from practice and were lounging on their beds, doing work.  Kuroo’d been loose with compliments that morning just as he had been for the entire week, praising his serves and tosses and bumping their shoulders together when they were running laps.  It was too much.  Everything was too much, _Kuroo_ was too much, and Tooru had to…fight this.  Fight…whatever this was.  He took a deep breath, geared himself up, and went for it.

“You’re the ugliest person I’ve ever seen, Tetsu-chan.  You’ll never get a girl to date you.”  Perfect delivery.  Casual, airy, just toeing the line of sincerity.

Kuroo didn’t even look up from his homework.  The corner of his mouth twitched like he knew Tooru was lying to himself.

“That’s alright,” his roommate responded lazily, voice distracted.  “I’m not interested.”

Not interested.  _Not.  Interested_.  Tooru’s hand curled tight in the fabric of his bedspread.

“Well—well, _good_.  Because then you wouldn’t have as much time to spend with your charming, talented roommate, which I know would be difficult for you.”

Kuroo boxed an answer to one of his math problems and moved on to the next.

“It would.”

Tooru flinched and tried to suppress his leg from jiggling up and down the way it wanted to.  He couldn’t help the fingers of his unclenched hand from tapping against his knee.

“Well, obviously.”  Time to raise the stakes.  “You’d never find anyone as attractive as me to be around anyway, and you certainly can’t make up for _that_ by looking in a mirror.”

Kuroo hummed a soft, agreeable sound.  “You’re right.”

Tooru’s left eyelid twitched.

“So you admit you’re attracted to me?”

Another soft sound.

“I am.”

What the fuck.  _What the fuck._

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“ _I do_.”

“You really, really don’t.”

And that had been that.  Tooru’d thrown his hands up, made a wild, frustrated sound at the ceiling, put on his shoes, and stomped out as loudly as he could.  Kuroo hadn’t even had the decency to laugh at him as he went.  But it was fine, it _was_ , because Tooru had stomped all the way to a party that Keiko-chan in his finance class had invited him to earlier in the day and then proceeded to drink and flirt until he could breathe again.  Until he felt like himself.  Until he wasn’t moments away from threatening his roommate with bodily harm.  Until…well, _really_ until he got sprayed with a bottle of sparkling wine and barely avoided being vomited on by some good-for-nothing on the baseball team, at which point he began the long walk back to his dorm because he didn’t want to call a cab and the cool weather helped to clear his head.

By the time Tooru arrived back at their room, he was feeling oddly relaxed.  He felt even better when he tiptoed through their door to find Kuroo absent, chemistry texts scattered on his bed and clothes haphazardly strewn on the floor.  His roommate must have gone on his own excursion for the night, and Tooru guessed that it involved interrogating another unsuspecting member of their team about how they got off or how they took a shit or something else equally personal that shouldn’t ever be discussed in public.  That was probably it.  Maybe he was even knuckle deep in some _other_ poor sap who’d made the mistake of coughing up their masturbatory disappointments.  What else did Kuroo do with his free time, anyway?  _Nothing_ , Tooru thought with a bitterness which—deep, deep down—he knew was unfounded.

Probably.

Tooru carefully peeled himself out of his purple-stained sweater, grabbed a towel, and pouted his way to the dorm showers.  It was just passing one in the morning – a strange, perfect time when most students were either soundly asleep, gone for the weekend, or in the middle of partying with no end in sight.  It was Tooru’s favorite time to shower because there was almost never anyone else in there, and while Tooru didn’t mind singing in front of others, apparently others did mind _him_ singing in front of _them_.  They didn’t know talent when they heard it, Tooru had complained to Iwaizumi after someone slipped a note under his door asking him to keep it down the next time.  His lying best friend had refused to take Tooru’s side.  Absurd.

Unfortunately, luck was not with him this time.  Instead of being at a party, Kuroo must have slipped out to take a shower too – Tooru would recognize that bleach-stained, ratty towel anywhere.  His roommate was the only other person there, though, and Tooru took a deep breath before gliding silently past his curtained stall and slipping into his own favorite stall two spots over. 

“I see you’re taking my advice for once, Tetsu-chan!  Bathing should really work to improve your image,” Tooru called out, because he wasn’t about to take a silent _shame_ shower, thank you very much.

Tooru snickered when he heard what must have been a shampoo bottle drop loudly to the tiled floor.

“Oikawa,” Kuroo drawled out, nonchalant as if he hadn’t just had the shit scared out of him.  Tooru heard him pick the bottle up and uncap it.  “Projecting as usual, I see.  I’m surprised you’re back so early – was your fan club not out in full force tonight?”

“Of course they were, it’s just that if I give them too much of my time they’ll get spoiled!  Your jealousy is flattering, though.”  Tooru decided it was not to his advantage to react to Kuroo’s jab _or_ mention the sparkling wine incident.

Kuroo snorted in response, and Tooru got to work washing his hair as their conversation melted into silence save for the steady spray of water and the shuffling of feet on tile.  He hummed softly to himself, closing his eyes and massaging his scalp to work the gel into a lather.  Not two minutes later, as Tooru rinsed out his shampoo and made a reach for his conditioner, a hearty moan broke the peace.  Tooru froze.  More silence followed, but just as he was about to move forward again another low noise slapped him across the face and instantly made his mouth go dry.

No.  Nope.  Nope, nope, nope, this was not happening.

It was impossible to ignore the next sound that filtered into his stall, but Tooru couldn’t just storm out in a rage because he had to wait _two whole minutes_ for his conditioner to work properly and he wasn’t about to cut his routine short just because his terrible roommate decided that the communal showers were the perfect place to jerk off at half past one.  While someone else was there with him.  While _Tooru_ was there with him.  (Of course, that was probably the whole point.  Kuroo Tetsurou was the worst person Tooru’d ever had the displeasure of meeting and Tooru was _not_ attracted to him.)

He tried distracting himself instead.  He cleaned his underarms carefully, focused on letting the warm water relax his muscles, focused on how the steam was opening up his pores to let the day’s sweat wash off and run down the drain and—

Kuroo made another heavy sound, a groan that seemed to reverberate through the tiled room and straight into Tooru’s dick.  He wanted to say something, snap out an insult or twelve and make Kuroo realize that he couldn’t just do this and that it wasn’t polite, but he was also _maybe_ a little curious.  Tooru’d been too caught up in his own head all those times before to notice how Kuroo really sounded when he was…like this.  Turned on.  Was he just rubbing one out like normal?  Jerking himself with one of his big hands, long fingers twisting right at the head like he’d done with Tooru?

Or…or.  Was he going further.  Also like he’d done with Tooru.

Tooru felt his breath start to come faster despite himself, felt his dick start to fill more rapidly against his thigh.  He slipped his eyes closed and let one hand sweep down from his hair to travel along his neck and chest, moving slowly over his ribcage and past the dip of his waist.  His fingers hesitated at his hip before continuing on to curl loosely around the base of his dick, squeezing there softly.  His toes curled at the feeling.  He usually never got worked up so quickly, never reacted quite like this to anything, but Kuroo had clearly done something in the last couple of weeks to change that.  It felt too good to be touching himself.  Way, way too good.  He relaxed his grip in favor of gently skating fingers along a vein, soft and slow, pausing when he reached the tip.  He let out a shaky exhale as he cupped himself there, thumb rubbing circles, water sliding down from the seam of his mouth and along the slope of his jaw.  He smacked his lips.  He felt overheated; impatient.

There weren’t any more sounds, but it didn’t matter; Tooru was already too far gone.  He swallowed thickly, his other hand reaching down so that he could press his nails into the muscle of one of his thighs.  He felt almost like one of Pavlov’s poor, stupid dogs, salivating at even the _idea_ of the thing that they wanted. 

Not that Tooru wanted anything in particular.

He didn’t.

He finally managed to snap himself out of it enough to rinse the conditioner from his hair—he _really_ didn’t want to let it go long enough that it’d lose volume in the morning—but had to clench his teeth together hard when Kuroo suddenly pulled in a sharp breath and then, after a beat of silence that made Tooru freeze in anticipation, let loose a choked moan even louder than before.  It was low and breathy and so hot that it made Tooru’s stomach clench into a fiery knot.

That was it.  Without letting himself think too hard about what he was doing, he slammed down on the shower knob to turn off the water and snaked an arm out of his stall to grab his towel.  Wrapping it tightly around his waist (because _someone_ had to be modest here), he brushed past his own shower curtain, roughly deposited his shower caddy into a corner, and took the five long strides necessary to reach Kuroo’s stall. 

Taking one huge breath to brace himself, Tooru flung open the curtain with all the gusto of someone who was equal parts infuriated and horny.  He expected the surprised yelp that immediately followed the action, but what he didn’t expect was for Kuroo to be standing there, dick completely soft, hands frozen in the middle of innocently rinsing shampoo from his hair.  Tooru blinked.

“Oikawa?”  Kuroo questioned hesitantly.  Soap bubbles slid down the bridge of his nose.

Tooru didn’t respond right away, but that was because he was flying through the seven stages of grief at such a rapid speed that he didn’t even have the time to realize that this was somehow the first time he’d seen Kuroo naked.

“Tetsu-chan,” he began grimly after a long pause, Kuroo’s still-running water providing a soothing balm to the fury that Tooru could feel swelling up inside him. “Don’t expect me to forgive you for this anytime soon.”

“Huh?  Forgive me for what?”

That asshole.  As if it hadn’t all been on purpose.  “For washing your hair like—like—like some indecent, inappropriate, disgusting—”

Kuroo cut him off with a loud cackle, his hands falling to clasp at his knees as he crumpled with laughter.  It was at that same exact moment that the shock wore off enough for Tooru to process the fact that Kuroo was very, very wet and very, very naked and had very, very nice legs.

“Oikawa.  Oikawa, please tell me that you thought I was really jerking it right next to you.  Please tell me that that’s why you’re standing here right now.”

Tooru wrinkled his nose, his arms coming up to cross against his chest defensively.  His lack of response only made Kuroo dissolve into raucous laughter again.  Tooru tolerated it for exactly three more seconds before his fury and embarrassment bubbled over and he stomped forward to poke Kuroo hard in the chest.

“You evil, terrible jerk,” he snarled, poking again in the same spot as Kuroo backed up into the tiled shower wall, still laughing.  “Don’t tell me you didn’t know what you were doing!  You were trying to rile me up.”

Kuroo snorted, a pathetic attempt at innocence briefly passing over his features before it dissolved into something entirely more delighted.  Tooru knew it.

“This is all your fault,” he snarled, “ _You_ did this to me, you – you made me like this.”

“Like _what_ ,” Kuroo gasped, hysterical and far too pleased with himself, face red and tears in the corners of his eyes.

Tooru poked him again.  He was determined to leave a bruise in the center of Kuroo’s very wet, very naked, very defined chest.

“Like _this_ ,” Tooru snapped pointedly, his free hand waving in the general vicinity of his still-hard dick where it bulged slightly underneath the fabric of his towel.  He glared at Kuroo as venomously as he could.

Kuroo’s eyes flickered toward his movement, his laughter choking off almost immediately.  He just stood there, breathing audibly, water running down his face as his gaze rested heavy on Tooru’s crotch.  Tooru wanted to take it back—take everything back and turn around so Kuroo couldn’t see him—but it was too late.  Kuroo took a half-step forward, hand reaching out for Tooru’s shoulder, but Tooru panicked and slapped him away.

“ _Don’t_.  It’s not fair.  You don’t get to do this to me.”

“What are you talking about, Oikawa?” Kuroo asked, genuinely confused.  His gaze kept flickering between Oikawa’s eyes and his groin as if he could somehow see right through the towel if he tried hard enough.

“You don’t get to just make me feel like this.  You don’t get to hold it over me.”

Kuroo shook his head like an affronted cat, eyes growing uncharacteristically large.  “Hold _what_ over you?  Oikawa, what the fuck are you talking about?”

Tooru breathed out unhappily through his nose.  He didn’t want to talk about this.  He didn’t need to.  He didn’t need to explain anything, because Kuroo _knew_ what he was doing and just wouldn’t admit it and Tooru was having a hard enough time not staring at Kuroo’s dick.

“You _know_ ,” he snapped, poking Kuroo again after he abruptly realized that he’d let his hand just rest there on Kuroo’s skin.

Kuroo narrowed his eyes.  “Oikawa.  Whatever’s going through your head, you’ve got it wrong.  I’m not holding anything over you.  What exactly do you think I’m trying to do?”

Tooru let his eyes slip away to the wall.  He pulled his hand away from Kuroo’s chest to clench it at his side.  He breathed in and out, twice, and then straightened up.  He cocked his hip, relaxing his clenched fist so that he could prop it there.  He could still do this.  He could still win.

“I’m not dumb, Tetsu-chan.  I’m not like _you_ —” 

“— _Hey!_ —”

“—I don’t play weird sex games with my teammates for fun.  And—and you’re not being _fair_ , you’re doing nice things and smiling like a normal person, and I’m not going to let you trick me into anything.  As if you even could.”

Kuroo stared at him in what Tooru _knew_ was fake bewilderment, his mouth silently forming the words ‘weird sex games’ into the humid cubicle like he was having some kind of existential crisis.  Just as Tooru was about to snap something at him and storm out, Kuroo snagged his wrist and sighed.

“Oikawa.  You know I like you, right?”

Tooru blinked.

“Like, I _like_ you like you.”

Tooru glared, arm tugging slightly against Kuroo’s grip.  “What are you, five?  Grow up, Kuroo.  You just wanted to one-up me because you have no boundaries.  Because you’re gross.  Because you wanted to mess around and you have a weird sex life.”

Kuroo barked out an ugly laugh.  “Me grow up?  Oikawa, I _wanted_ to mess around with you because I _liked_ you.”

Tooru’s eyes narrowed, his arms crossing against his chest again as he tapped his foot against the tile.  “You liked me.”

“Yes.  Still like you.”

“Still like me.”

“Yes.”

“You like me.”

“ _Yes._ ”

“You’re attracted to me.”

“Mhm.”

Tooru stared him down for another few seconds and then nodded, business-like, mouth twitching up into a gentle smirk as the tension swept out of his body.  “Well, of course you are.  That makes complete sense.”

“You fucking asshole—” Kuroo snarled through a clenched-tooth grin, pulling Tooru the rest of the way in until—until they were kissing, hard at first and then soft and slow, one of Kuroo’s hands sliding up to cup his jaw and the other pressing along the curve of his neck.  Tooru fisted a hand in Kuroo’s terrible, wet bangs, thumb rubbing up underneath the soft skin below Kuroo’s ear.  He’d missed this.  It hadn’t even been that long, but Tooru hadn’t let them go there last time and now he could _maybe_ admit to himself that he’d regretted it.  That he’d wanted Kuroo to kiss him then; that Tooru had wanted to kiss him back.  Now, here, Kuroo’s mouth was velvet-smooth and hot, wet from the shower spray that had soaked Tooru’s towel all the way through, but it was fine because Kuroo was attracted to him.  Kuroo liked him.  Kuroo _like_ -liked him, because he was a dweeb but he also had admittedly good taste.

Tooru was already starting to accelerate back to where he’d been earlier, but this time he wasn’t alone.  This time he didn’t just have to imagine what Kuroo looked like.  He cracked his eyes open slightly, sucking at Kuroo’s lower lip as he stared at dark eyelashes and watched Kuroo’s brow furrow in concentration.  Charming.  Kuroo pulled him in even closer when Tooru tugged at his lip a bit too aggressively, teeth sharp, Tooru’s towel pressing up in between them with enough friction to make Kuroo whine into his mouth.  Better.

Tooru huffed out a laugh and smiled against him, eyes sliding shut and hands pushing flat on his roommate’s chest until they were backed up against the tile wall.  Tooru could lean as much of his weight into Kuroo as he wanted like that, and so he did; their legs slotted so firmly together that water ran down the tight seam where their thighs met and curled around the swell of Tooru’s calf.  It took only a few open-mouthed kisses underneath Kuroo’s jaw, a few tugs at his hair, a few deliberate movements of his hips, and then Kuroo was wrestling against Tooru’s hold and prying open the knot of his towel just like Tooru’d been hoping.  Tooru let it drop between them with a heavy splat, kicking the fabric away and then promptly ( _audibly_ , how embarrassing) choking on his own spit when their bodies slid back together without anything in between.  Luckily Kuroo was too busy smothering his own low sound into Tooru’s cheek to notice.

Tooru mouthed weakly at Kuroo’s ear as Kuroo gripped his hips and ground them together in a wet slide, gasping out ragged breaths that made Kuroo’s fingers press in even tighter. 

“Was this your plan from the beginning?” Tooru asked, lips catching against skin.  “When you asked me how I got off that night?  Were you thinking about me like this?”

Kuroo just groaned, one hand reaching up to lift Tooru away from his ear so that he could suck at the soft skin of Tooru’s throat.

“Yeah,” Tooru mumbled to the ceiling, licking at the water on his lips and squeezing his eyes shut against the spray, “Yeah, I bet you were.  I bet you thought about me like this all the time, hm?  Tell Oikawa-san.”

“Maybe I did,” Kuroo said in between kisses, gracefully ignoring the honorific, “Maybe I’ve been thinking about this since the first time we met.”

Tooru grinned up at nothing, letting Kuroo spin them around so that his head could tilt back against the tile.  “How cheesy, Tetsu-chan!  So your ingenious plan was to ask me if I’d ever used my own fingers to fuck myself before?  Really?”

Kuroo made an odd, half-groan-half-snort into the skin of his neck, dragging his hands up and down along Tooru’s sides a few times before sinking fingers into the meat of his thighs.  “Well it worked, didn’t it?  I couldn’t help it.”  His tone was playful and haughty, careless enough to make Tooru’s lip curl.  “You got so embarrassed—”

“—Hey!  No one just asks someone that, of course I was embarrassed, how was I _supposed_ to react—”

“And your _hands_ , Oikawa.”

Tooru whined as Kuroo wiggled an arm between their bodies, gripping their dicks together and pulling upwards in one long, luxurious stroke.

“Oh yeah?” Tooru breathed into the steam once he’d recovered, tipping his head back even further against the wall and arching his hips into Kuroo’s, “What about them?”

“Your—fuck, Oikawa—your fingers, I’d watch you set and I’d think about—”

“What, what else I could do with them?” Tooru teased, giggling delightedly, dragging said fingers down Kuroo’s back until they could grip tight at his hips.  “So dirty, Tetsu-chan.”  He bit his own lip a little to smother a pleased smile even though Kuroo couldn’t see his face, deliberately ignoring the fact that he hadn’t been able to stop staring at his roommate’s hands for weeks either; not since he’d touched him that night.

“Thought about—thought about how they’d feel—”

“Feel where, hm?” Tooru hummed, tipping his head forward so that he could press the words into Kuroo’s ear.  “Here?” he continued, voice as casual as he could make it as he let one of his hands shift from Kuroo’s hip to the small of his back, index finger resting at the top of his crack.

Kuroo stuttered out a desperate sound, hand squeezing their dicks together tight enough to make Tooru’s mouth drop open further.  Almost too tight.  He was basically panting into Kuroo’s ear at this point, but it was fine—fine because Kuroo was messily biting at Tooru’s jaw and pushing him closer against the wall.

“Not quite,” Kuroo heaved out, the hand he still had on Tooru’s thigh digging in roughly enough that Tooru fully expected bruises there tomorrow.

“Oh?  Really?”  No handjob, no matter how good, was going to keep him from savoring this moment.  “Maybe here?” he asked, voice mocking, index finger sliding slowly until it just hovered just above the dip of Kuroo’s hole.  His skin was so hot there that it was making Tooru dizzy.

Kuroo bit him firmly in response, hips jerking hard against Tooru’s.  “How annoying,” he gasped, hand falling away from their dicks so he could grab Tooru’s left thigh and hike it up over his sharp hipbone.  The position closed any remnant of space between them and made Tooru inch up onto the ball of his right foot, Kuroo’s dick pressed hard and slick against Tooru’s own, the water starting to run slightly cool where it still fell in rivulets down Tooru’s face.  The position _also_ gave Tooru that slight bit of extra reach he needed to slip his finger even lower, which was particularly convenient.

“Me?  I’m annoying?  I’m not the one who took advantage of someone when they were on the phone with poor, innocent Iwa-chan—”

“—He’s not a monk, Oikawa, I swear to god—”

“—While I was minding my _own business_ —”

“—And I didn’t take _advantage_ of you, you dipshit, don’t make me sound like some kind of—”

Tooru cut him off by finally slipping the tip of his index finger the rest of the way down, pressing just hard enough to fit it inside up to the first knuckle.  He didn’t dare go any further because a) he was far too overwhelmed, not that he’d ever admit it, and b) they were in the shower and water didn’t exactly make things any easier.  In the end, it didn’t really matter—Kuroo inhaled sharply in shock and then let out a moan that had Tooru groaning right back in response.  He grinned into Kuroo’s neck, letting his teeth rest against hot skin as Kuroo ground their hips together.  Tooru wiggled his fingertip just a little.

“Hmm, I guess here,” he affirmed smugly.  “My my, Tetsu-chan!  You must have been waiting for this for quite a while.  Do you think about me when you touch yourself?”

Kuroo panted against Tooru’s neck, hand shifting on Tooru’s hitched thigh until he could grip Tooru’s ass instead.  He somehow managed to adjust their angle to something even better in the process; Tooru could feel his dick leaking messily against Kuroo’s stomach, water rinsing precome down between their bodies and to the drain.  He was so close.  Too close.  He was barely doing anything, really, but Kuroo was making choked sounds in the back of his throat and Tooru was so turned on that he couldn’t keep his eyes open.

“Fingers aren’t enough for you, I bet.  Is that right, Tetsu-chan?  Do you need more?" he teased, lips grazing Kuroo's ear.  "Do you think about me fucking you?”

He let his voice grow sharp, free hand digging nails into Kuroo’s shoulder blade as his finger sunk in just a bit deeper.  He couldn’t do any more like this, Kuroo was too dry and his wrist ached from the harsh angle and—

—and Kuroo was coming, dick jerking against Tooru’s belly as he pressed a shaky whine into Tooru’s hair.  His hips twitched up into Tooru’s a few more times, weak and uncoordinated, but that was good enough – Tooru slid his finger out of Kuroo’s hole so he clutch Kuroo’s waist instead as he came just as loudly.

They stood there together, panting, until Kuroo was shaking too hard to hold Tooru’s leg up anymore.  He gently lowered it to the floor, Tooru hissing as he came down from the ball of his foot and felt blood rush to meet it.  The water was freezing.  He licked a frigid droplet from his lips.

“Well.  For someone who makes a habit of it, that didn’t take much work at all now did it.”

Kuroo barked out an exhausted laugh, tilting his head so that the bridge of his nose was tucked under Tooru’s jaw.  Tooru leaned the rest of the way back so that he didn’t have to work to keep his head upright.

“You know I don’t actually do this all the time, right?  Like, I never said that I’d done this with anyone before.”

Tooru’s eyes shot open like he’d been electrocuted. 

“What?!” he snapped, appalled, “I can’t believe you!  You insinuated that you were…were… _experienced!_ ”

“I didn’t insinuate anything!”

“You did!  You said, ‘it’s better if someone does it for you’ when you were interrogating me that first night like a dirty old man!”

“I was flirting, Oikawa, _flirting_ —"

“But you knew what you were doing!”

“Ohoho?  I guess I’m just naturally—”

“I swear to god, Tetsu-chan, I will end you if you finish that sentence—”

The rest of his rant was smothered by Kuroo’s mouth, and it was pathetic how easily Tooru leaned into the kiss.  They made out for some indeterminable amount of time, tucked tightly together for warmth, until Tooru was shivering so hard that he realized they could probably just turn off the water.  Reaching out an arm, he yanked the shower knob down and breathed an immediate sigh of relief when the spray stopped.  Kuroo huffed against his lips, tongue tracing stray droplets as they traveled from his eyelashes and down along his cheek.

“Gross,” Tooru breathed, heart not in it.  He bit his lip a little in the silence and then turned his face into Kuroo’s hair.  “I suppose I like you too, you know.”  His voice came out softer than he’d have preferred it to, less lofty, but it didn’t matter – Kuroo grinned against his jaw. 

Somehow, Tooru’d still won.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to those who have stuck around for this!!! it was fun and not-too-deep and just what i needed. thanks for reading & commenting and feel free to bother me on tumblr @fullybackfired any time

**Author's Note:**

> I keep trying to write something plotty and instead I keep ending up with weirdly specific, highly circumstantial porn. Oh well.


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